A Stranger in the mirror 2 - Stranger Things...
by Bee
Summary: Sequel to 'a stranger in the mirror.' Mulder PoV


TITLE: Stranger things…

AUTHOR: Bee Slayer ducks

DISCLAIMER: Chris Carter doesn't need my money, so bog off.

RATING:

SUMMARY: Sequel to 'Stranger in the Mirror'. Mulder has his own thoughts.

I apologise. Really, I do. But it's almost 5 p.m., and I'm trying desperately to avoid doing my coursework.

Btw, if you spot any typos, let me know, cos it bugs the hell out of me.

**

'And if you try to please me now,

You know that I won't remonstrate,

I'll lie, I would lie.'

Gomez - Bring it on (I'm not afraid to admit that I like this band. LOL)

Was it me?

I stand up, ready to leave the room, get something to eat before she gets out of the shower and sees me sitting here on the bed like a moron.

But the question reverberates in my head again, and I sit back down. Hard.

If my memory serves me right (and lets face it, it has been known to fail once in a while) we've shared a hotel room a grand total of four times in all of our years together. Not exactly a regular occurrence - which is probably a good thing. Willpower only gets you so far and I don't really relish the idea of being shot by her yet again.

But all the same, when you share a room/bed with a woman, you get to know certain things. If they snore, if they steal the sheets half way through the night, if they talk in their sleep.

And, three out of the four times (or was it five?) Scully did none of the above. Well, she does have this cute little half-snore thing going on, but apart form that she's the perfect person to sleep with. Next to. Whatever.

But last night was weird. Last night she...

She didn't exactly *talk* in her sleep, it was really more of a groan. Okay, okay, a series of groans.

I swear to god, that must have been one hell of a dream, because by the time she calmed down, *I* was breathing pretty hard, and I was wide awake!

I'm pretty sure that in her dream she was doing what I think she was doing, but the question is, who was she doing it *with*?

I sigh and lie back on the bed, looking around in the hope of finding the remote control so I can stop thinking about this.

I have got to get last night out of my head, or I'm gonna be a total wreck for the rest of the day. And she'll know something's up, she always does. I could always make up some half-baked lie about having a weird dream, but I think I'll be accused of patronising her.

I hear the shower stop, reminding me that I'm supposed to be getting breakfast. I did leave the room with every intention of getting food, but in my haste to leave without making a stupid comment, I went and forgot my wallet. And I didn't quite manage to make it out of the door a second time.

Maybe I should just come right out with it and ask her. At least then I can stop torturing myself by thinking about it. I just seem to be going round and round...I argue with myself about whether it was me or not, then I come to the conclusion that it probably wasn't, that there's no way in the deep, dark pits of hell that she feels that way about me. I then put myself through the torture of wondering - what she *was* dreaming about me?

What I wouldn't give...to be the person putting that expression on her face, to get that reaction from her. I have my own dreams about me and her - frequently, in fact.

At times I can almost *feel* it. The sensation of her manicured fingernails digging into my flesh, the taste of her pale skin…

This is not healthy.

This is really not healthy, especially not when the object of my fantasies is in the next room.

There's absolutely no reason to think that she might feel the same way. I have to be honest with myself, I'm the worst possible person for her. Any involvement between us would only end in disaster, and would hurt her. Everything else seems to fall down around me, whatever makes me think that a relationship between us wouldn't end the same way?

The fact of the matter is that she's too good for me. And if she were to pack up her things today and make some attempt at a normal life, I wouldn't blame her one little bit. 

Yet...at the same time, I know that if she were to leave me, I'd fall apart. I need her, and the vain hope that some day our relationship might progress is sometimes the only thing that keeps me going. Pathetic, I know, but true.

I swear I hear a laugh from the bathroom, and frown. What can she possibly be *laughing* about? It didn't sound like a happy laugh form where I'm sitting. More of an I'm-so-stupid laugh. I feel a smile form on my lips: I know the exact feeling.

It's strange, seeing her first thing in the morning. She has no idea just how beautiful she looks with all her walls down. And I'm not just talking about the fact that she wears those skimpy little silk pajamas, I'm talking about...

I'm not really sure. I heave another sigh and move even further up the bed so that I'm resting on the pillows.

I can smell her. God, I can smell her. This is what I'm talking about. Just pure Scully. No make up, no perfume, no 5 inch heels (how the hell does she walk in those things anyway?) and no attitude. Not that her usual attitude is a bad one, it's just that it's difficult to tell who she really is when she's around other people. She puts on this 'nothing can get to me' exterior, and it bugs the hell out of me. Especially because I know it isn't true. 

She is a vision when she's sleeping. I only wish that I had the opportunity to watch her sleep more often. 

The thing is though, even first thing in the morning, bred-breath, sleepy eyes and all, she's still gorgeous. Stil enough to force me to think of Frohike to prevent embarrassment.

I hear footsteps in the bathroom, and realise that I should move - and quickly - before I get the evil-eye for not getting coffee and bagels...

An angry Scully before she's had her morning coffee is *not* something I want to face right now. She has no idea how much I want to act out those dreams when she gives me that glare...

I snap out of it, just as the bathroom door opens, and out steps Scully, dressed only in a towel, and looking like she's off in a world of her own.

I hope to God that she spots me before she takes off that towel.

* * *

__

I'm weak. I *had* to follow this up, even though it was worse than the last one.

And who knows, I might just make it into a trilogy... although before you encourage me (optimistic, I know) bear in mind that a third part would have to be smut...

evil grin

I scare myself.

Flames etc to bee_slayer@hotmail.com


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